


The tale of a  Lovesick coward

by Fandom_Lover77



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Trigger warning: Mention of vomiting and potentially breif description, skimmons - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:53:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Lover77/pseuds/Fandom_Lover77
Summary: Simmons has to look after a sick Pukey Daisy who has more to her current predicament than she initially lets on.Added a bit more, will add more later on this evening, thanks for all of the kudosI also make fanart and fan edits including lots of aos content, if you're interested follow my instagram and tiktok: FandomzXEdits
Relationships: Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, stressed fitz
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic isnt set in a particular part of the series and instead just uses, characters, locations and ideas from the show as it is just a one shot. this is my first attempt at a proper oneshot so sorry if it isnt too good, I didnt really plan this going into it so sorry if its a bit of a shambles. the fact that its also currently 1am as I'm starting writing this doesnt help either.

"The Playground" 06:00 hours - The Lab

"Jemma Could you pass me the the..uh" Fitz hesitated - scratching the back of his neck with one hand and absent mindedly drumming a steady rhythm on the desk with the other - as he attempted to recall the name of the piece of apparatus which he required. He was in the middle of fine tuning the adjustments and repairs to Daisy's gauntlets after the battering they had endured during the teams last mission.

"Sorry, did you say something" Jemma acknowledged in a fairly delayed reaction, as she removed her eye from the eyepiece of the microscope that she was using, and turned to to look at Fitz.

"Uhh...yeah" Fitz responded, as if he was almost unsure of the answer to that question himself. He stopped and stared at Jemma for a second before his gaze returned to the partially disconnected component from daisy's gauntlet that he was still holding in his hand. The component was now only connected to the main gauntlet (which was resting on the table infront of him) by a set of thin rubber insulated wires.

"I asked you to pass the uh....the...thing". As Fitz vocalised the final word he gestured something which Jemma could only imagine was his poor attempt at trying to convey the physical parameters object he was looking for. In order to enhance her understanding as to what tool he was referring to.

"You know the...spectro...analyser...mambob..thing" he said with an exasperated sigh as he pinched his temples with one hand and made a tight fist on the table with the other.

Unfortunately Jemma was none the wiser than he seemed to be as to what the Bloody hell he was referring, a fact which she found to be fairly irritating in her current state. However, once her brain slowly acknowledged Fitz' increasingly erratic,self soothing behaviour and body language, she decided to push any of her own feelings of irritation and frustration to the side and help comfort her ( clearly agitated)best friend and lab partner.

he often got like this : Foggy Minded - which rendered him practically incapable of producing complete thoughts and filling in gaps of others, which in turn made him very stressed, irritated and irritable. It was a fairly frequent occurrence even back at the academy before they had been transferred to active duty and he had sustained the damage to his brain:2 things which seemed only to have exhasperated the issue and increased the frequency of its occurance .This was much to Jemma's sympathy - as his friend - and chagrin - as his lab partner. 

It’s occurance was usually a direct result of Fitz being placed in high pressure- and high stress situations, however todays circumstances also seemed to be causing a hindrance much to the same effect.

________________________________________________________________

**Trigger warning: Mention of vomit**

Although sound sleep lasting for more than 5 hours was both a luxury and a rarity in and of itself in their line of work and the environments generated by it - an “occupational hazard” as Coulson had branded it in high spirit, despite his evident personal familiarity with the issue.The previous night and early hours of the day’s morning had proven to test this concept even further.

From around the stroke of midnight all the way through until three in the morning, Fitz had been kept from his sleep by the discontinuous sound of Daisy in her and Jemma’s adjacent room, forcefully emptying the contents of her stomach into her and Jemma’s shared toilet. 

Jemma: who had been holding Daisy’s hair back, rubbing her back and just genuinely trying to comfort her friend during in what she had described as being a “shitshow of the shittiest kind”. in between her gagging and groaning in discomfort each time she placed her head on the toilet seat to mark the end of yet another few minutes of constant retching.

Jemma was also exhausted. This was due to the fact that she had gotten even less sleep than her groggy, grumpy lab partner had. Because, unlike Fitz who only had to bear witness to the horrific atrocity that was Daisy puking her guts up all night, Jemma was right smack bang in the middle of the action. And no amount of earplugs or a pillow over the head could help her catch up on the sleep she was missing. Because she had to be there for Daisy. Because Daisy needed her.

Although Daisy had not acknowledged or conveyed this fact herself, Jemma felt it her duty as her longtime friend and teammate to do what she knew Daisy would do for her in a heartbeat if she herself were in Daisy’s position. It was also partially out of guilt, over the fact that she was not there to help Daisy through the first hour of her suffering. Something for which she desperately wanted to make it up to Daisy, even though she knew the other woman would never hold it against her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working on chapter 3 at the moment - 23:30 6th August

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> details marked with asterisks (that I really wanted to include in the main text but created some monster run on sentences) are up here in this place.
> 
> *1 - evident by her incoherent sleep mumbles and faint snoring ( a sleep behaviour that she would deny at all costs, But That Daisy actually found to be quite adorable and endearing although she would never admit that to Jemma)
> 
> Ik its chapter 2 and I haven't gotten around to the main event yet but Im a sucker for extra details and thats just how I write so If you dont like it then skip to like chapter 3-4. I just feel that it brings the characters to life more and stuff (also this is my first real fic)

Throughout the first hour of what would later be a three hour long ordeal - much to both women..and Fitz’ misfortune and dismay - Jemma had remained in the lab instead of returning promptly to her bunk on the stroke of midnight as Coulson had advised her to. This was in order to aid her in getting some semblance of a decent amount of sleep.

Coulson, Jemma and Fitz alike all knew that as of late Fitzsimmons had been getting even less sleep than they had at any other point in their numerous years of weekly apocalypse prevention and academy coined all night study sessions. And it was beginning to take its toll on their mood and their productivity, and subsequently the mood and productivity of all other labgoers . As they were required to endure rather long grueling hours in a fairly small lab, in which they could not escape the dreary and crabby pair (who also happened to be their superiors).  
Coulson had not only reccomended the pair to take a long earned and needed recharge out of concern for their health - both mental and physical - but also in an attempt to resuscitate the pale proverbial corpse that the lab's morale had become in recent times.

Jemma had planned on staying in the lab, well into the next hour or so - just to tie up some loose ends that she felt the lab techs would be best not to deal with in lack of Fitz' or her own presence. Coulson had promised her and Fitz a free pass from the next days briefing and the usual first hour of work so that they could have a lie in - and instead had given them the readers digest version and promised them that the lab would be in the safe hands of the labtechs for the first hour of the working day .During his stop to the lab to persuade them to call it a day. Fitz was initially hesitant to follow through on the director's reccomendation, but had eventually given in and gone to bed when Jemma had promised and insisted that she would tie up the loose ends before going to bed at a reasonable time herself. She figured that things would get done a lot faster if she didnt have a foggy minded, grumpy , snappy Fitz to contend with and so his presence would probably be best avoided.(even though he was her best friend and she loved being around him the majority of the time).

________________________________________________________________

The time was approximately 12:57am When Jemma finished the assortment of relatively simple - in the greater and past scheme of things - miscellaneous tasks around the lab - that the very competent lab techs would have been perfectly fine to take care of. However, Jemma was a very firm believer in the philosophy that if you want something done right then you were better off doing it yourself. This was due to the fact that it had been the case in the majority of her past experiences (*cough cough* Algae-Hydrogen Biofuel blunder* cough cough* Fitz’ fault). Yet it was also in part due to the fact that Jemma was very particular in her tastes and standards. Some may even be as bold as to say that she was overly - and bordering on obsessively - particular - a point which Fitz would not hesitate to bring up any time the pair were engaged in a particularly heated argument or verbal altercation.

It was 12:59 By the time that she was on the way back to her room. A few moments later as Jemma tiredly ambled down the corridor in approach of her room, she noticed that something was off. The door was cracked open and there was the faint glow of what she suspected was a desk lamp - but was later proven to be a shaft of light that had escaped from the en suite bathroom due to its door being slightly ajar. This was not ordinarily something that would be considered out of the ordinary or a cause for concern in the world of people who’s dorm was a site of cohabitation with one or more roommates and or partners….That is unless...your roommate is the infamous Daisy Johnson.

It was well known across the base that from the late hours of the evenings to the early hours of the mornings, Daisy could either be found in the practice range, gym or sparring room - she had become a lot more focused and determined lately. She could rarely ever be found in her and Jemma’s Room at these times, with the exception of some of the occasions on which they had an early deployment the next day and Coulson had ordered her to go to bed . However, even under these circumstances she would often still go against Coulson, knowing that she would not be punished for these particular transgressions as he had more pressing S.H. I.E.L.D matters to tend to.

Jemma was always sound asleep - *1- by the time that Daisy crept in through the door of their room at 'obscenely ridiculous hours of the morning' (to quote Jemma who often scolded her for such behaviours, until she began to partake in them herself). Even if she herself had done her fair share of stress induced pacing and trying to estimate the chemical composition of the ceiling before eventually succumbing to her body's desire to sleep and clocking out for the night.

That was always the case, until recently, when the ammount of time that she and Fitz were spending in the lab after hours had sky rocketed - when instead they really should have been catching up on weeks of lost sleep . This was because they had been brainstorming and desperately trying to develop scientific solutions to their weekly world threatening crises and their high stress levels had caused them to go into overdrive.

As of late FitzSimmons had really been feeling the pressure of their line of work and the role they fulfilled in it, more than they had at any other time before. Jemma supposed that it was down to the large swell in the frequency of and the general threat level of the humanity-threatening, end of the world type events that they had been pitched up against in recent times.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of chapter 3, will finish later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if the shooting stance described is not accurate or viable. I couldnt find a reference online and so just had to try and remember and describe it based on what I'd seen on TV. For the sake of the fact that Jemma is supposed to be a highly trained S.H.I.E.L.D asset I'd appreciate if we could all pretend that it was the correct stance or overlook that fact that it isnt if its not. Its bad enough that my search history is filled with stuff about pistol anatomy, without all of the stuff about shooting stances, Im pretty sure Ive just made my way onto more than a few terrorist watchlists.
> 
> Asterisk extra details up here
> 
> *2 a response to the perception of danger that she had developed very early on in her time in the field
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: DESCRIPTION AND MENTION OF VOMIT IN LAST PARAGRAPH!!!

As Jemma got closer in her approach to the partially ajar, dimly lit doorway she was able to partially make out the faint noise of what sounded like heavy breathing and pained grunts and groans. And they sounded like they belonged to her best friend , teammate and roommate Daisy.  
As These were the only sounds that Jemma was able to pick up on she was fairly sure that Daisy was alone in the room. Upon the completion of her rather sluggish thought process that had been fogged by exhaustion, her realisation of the potential harm that Daisy may have come to Daisy caused the replace her curiosity and mild concern with terror and worry. As well as the dread of what she would find on the other side of the door.

As Jemma now ran as fast as she could down the - really very long - corridor towards the room, she drew her Icer from the holster that was concealed beneath her blazer. (It had recently become compulsory under S.H.E.I.L.D regulations for all agents to carry Icers and at least 2 full mags of dendrotoxin bullets on them at all times. Incase for any reasons the armour became inaccessible as it had during their last base invasion).

This was Jemma’s knee jerk response (*2) to the fact that she was now very aware of the genuine possibility that whoever or whatever had injured Daisy could still be on the other side of the door. Regardless of how empty the room seemed beside Daisy’s obvious presence. 

Adrenaline was now coursing through Jemma’s veins, causing her to feel more awake and clear minded than she had at any other point in the last 3 months. Jemma’s first instinct was to call for backup. But this was soon overwritten by her recognition of the fact that everyone else nearby was currently asleep and her usual team were all spread out across the very large base. And so neither would be likely to arrive in time to ensure Daisy’s safety. After taking this into account, Jemma’s prominent instinct was now her frequently occurring, infinite in strength, urge to protect Daisy. Because Daisy meant the world to her, and she wasn’t about to let some Hydra scum or alien assassin take Daisy away from her.

Upon Drawing her gun, Jemma’s stance changed - another thing that was a knee jerk response and was also part of her muscle memory at this point. Jemma was now partially crouched. Her back arched by a very small amount. And her head was now ever so slightly lightly ducked forward to allow her to look directly down both sights of the gun that was now raised to meet her line of sight. Her free hand had now moved to grip the place where the base of the magazine and her gun wielding hand met. In order to provide some steadiness to both. She was now infinitely more aware of her footwork too, being very careful to proceed quietly and with one foot in front of the other.

As she got closer to the doorway she slowed down as not to alert any potential hostile assailants of her presence. She then turned so that her back was practically facing the wall beside her land she proceeded to walk like this towards the door. Once she was right next to the doorway, she pressed herself flat against the wall and clutched the gun that she was holding in one hand - and supporting with the other - tightly to her chest. Before closing her eyes and taking in a deep trembling breath. The adrenaline was starting to wear off now, almost as quickly as it had kicked in. Jemma could feel her fear and dread closing in, the former most likely being a result of the latter. As well as the devastation that was being generated by all of the swirling thoughts and immersive worst case scenarios that she was unwillingly conjuring in her head, As she listened to the sounds of what she presumed was Daisy being hurt. As her anxiety attempted to push its way to the front of her mind. Jemma took a few shaky breaths as she pushed away all of the thoughts of death and other various atrocities that may be waiting for her on the other side of that door and in her personal, as well as the general near future. She took a moment to compartmentalise them into her little music box just as her father had taught her to do when she was a child. Before she eventually took one final slightly less shaky breath and opened her eyes, and forced a slow exhale to calm and steady her mind and body. Bringing her gun back into position and resuming her offensive stance once the exhale was complete and she was no longer shaking.

She then proceeded to step outwards and pivot her body so that she was stood in the center of the corridor directly in line with and facing the creaked door. Jemma’s first impulse was to kick the door open in hopes of maybe startling any potential assailants, and giving herself the combative advantage. She was well aware of the fact that she could potentially be outnumbered, and so any chance at even slightly shifting the odds in her favour would be greatly favourable. Especially seen as she was going in alone.

She then proceeded to step outwards and pivot her body so that she was stood in the center of the corridor directly in line with and facing the creaked door. Jemma’s first impulse was to kick the door open in hopes of maybe startling any potential assailants, and giving herself the combative advantage. She was well aware of the fact that she could potentially be outnumbered, and so any chance at even slightly shifting the odds in her favour would be greatly favourable. Especially seen as she was going in alone.

Upon Hearing the awful pained grunts and heavy breathing once again, Jemma Decided that she had already wasted enough valuable time, and so she decided to bite the bullet - hopefully not literally . So without any further thought or consideration, Jemma briskly and forcefully struck the door with the base of her foot. When her foot made contact with the door, she was very grateful that she had chosen to use the base of her foot rather than the side. As she was sure that if she had, the impact with the very firm, solid fire door would have shattered several of the bones in the side of her foot, leaving her struggling to walk let alone fight.

The door did not open as far as Jemma had expected it to, due to its weight. But it had still opened far enough for Jemma to swiftly side step through the gap and enter the room, with her gun poised and ready to shoot anything that moved and Wasn’t Daisy .

Jemma had expected to be greeted by a frenzy of fists, a shower of bullets or some other crazy alien weapon upon her entrance of the room. But surprisingly none of those scenarios came to be. Instead she was met with a momentarily silent, dimly lit room. 

However, Jemma’s gun still remained raised and ready to shoot at a moment's notice, and her guard remained high. Because, believe it or not, she was not ruling out the possibility of an invisible foe lurking in the shadows of the supposedly vacant room before her. Not after everything that she had seen or been through during her time in S.H.I.E.L.D as a student and as an agent. 

After a moment of taking in her bleakly lit and seemingly empty surroundings, Jemma figured that the chances were that if there was a hostile in the room, invisible or not, then they were definitely already aware of her presence by now. As the fact remained - as it always had - that she herself was not invisible. Also because the door had made more of a sound than she would have liked it to when she had kicked it open. With this in mind, Jemma carefully felt around on the wall for the lightswitch with one hand whilst keeping her gun poised with the other. Before eventually finding the switch and in her triumph,flipping up all available switches causing all of the ceiling lights to buzz into action. Flooding the room with a warm, but bright golden glow.

This tremendously increased the visibility in the room,Something that would make life easier her should she need to fight. As well as make sure that she wouldn’t trip and break her neck on some unseen object on the way to the bathroom. Where she was 99 percent sure that Daisy was being held, upon surveying her surroundings, in the dark beforehand and now again in the light. 

Jemma swiftly scanned her surroundings one final time, looking for anything that indicated a struggle or anything that was even the tiniest bit misplaced. Anything that would confirm her suspicions or shine a light on what had happened to Daisy so that she could mentally prepare herself, in order to stay strong for them both.

But Alas, her search yielded no results and she was still at a loss for what had transpired in the room before her arrival. Although her mind was swirling at a million miles a minute, summoning all sorts of gruesome and grisly encounters that all resulted in Daisy’s inevitable disembowelment by one means or another.

But, Getting trapped by the “what if”s and worst case scenarios wasn't going to help anyone, and Jemma knew that if she wanted answers she wasn’t going to get them like this. She’d have to rush to Daisy’s side, like she had so desperately been longing to ever since the first sign that she was in danger. A desire that had only grown stronger with time, and had led to Jemma mentally berating herself for overthinking the situation. Rather than throwing all caution to the wind and racing to Daisy’s aid.

What did it matter if she got hurt or injured? As long as Daisy was safe.

With that though - a thought that had long been etched into her heart - now ingrained in her mind, she proceed to do what she had been dreading for what seemed like an eternity and walked briskly over to the bathroom door before opening it. As the door swang open in front of her, the sound of her heart beating out of her chest and the sporadic creaking of the door hinges created a clamorous cacophony in Jemma's ears. But once Jemma saw what was on the other side of the door, the cacophony died down, but her concern remained and her expression and thoughts of worry were now accompanied by those of confusion and slight relief. Because the grunts and groans she had heard were not the sound of her friends pain as she bled out on the bathroom floor, slowly wasting away as help failed to reach her. But instead they were the sounds of (Trigger warning: Descriptions of vomit) her heaving up all the food and liquids she had consumed that day as a putrid, apparently carrot filled mush. Normally, this would still be something that Jemma would have been fairly concerned by, as Daisy almost never got sick due to her slightly enhanced inhuman immune system. However, the reality had paled in comparison to what Jemma was expecting and she knew that if anyone could diagnose and relieve Daisy of her ailments, it would be herself and her 4 different Biology PHDS in fields that Coulson couldn’t pronounce. Having Jemma In your life was like having a friend and a doctor all rolled into one, something that came in especially handy if your name was Daisy Johnson and you were prone to injury in your dangerous and terrifying weekly escapades.


End file.
